Devoe's Tale
by BlazerKnight
Summary: A tale of a young soldier caught up in the deadly world of clan wars, and his heart conflicted between two separate loves. What will Devoe choose?
1. Clan Anarchy

**Devoe's Tale**

November 2007

This was and is my first fan fiction project which I started ages ago. I've only recently decided to work on it again, and have removed the original 3 chapters which I left incomplete. Consider this a fresh new start on the story – the characters and plot remain mainly the same. Please read and review.

**Chapter 1 - Clan Anarchy**

The tavern was bathed in an ochre glow by numerous oil lamps hanging from the rafters. Devoe kept his melancholia in check with a constant stream of drinks. His nerves were frayed by the discordant noise of the untalented musicians playing in a corner. For the past few weeks he had been desperately searching for a job – at best, he could carry crates at the docks for a dozen gil an hour. Without qualifications or previous job experience, he was consigned to menial labour, which was barely enough to pay for decent lodging and food in Cyril.

Devoe shifted in his seat, taking a perfunctory glance at the resident notice board, long resigned to the absence of any prospective job offers. A moment before he dismissed his hopes, an illustrated sheet of parchment caught his eye. It featured a motif of a stylized fist thrusting into the air, above the caption, "Join Clan Anarchy today!"

After a brief discussion with the barmaid, it became clear that the aforementioned clan was only recently formed and its leader, a certain viera by the moniker of Tanya, sought members to join its ranks. With fresh hope, Devoe departed, already mentally planning his journey and calculating the supplies needed.

His trip to Sprohm on foot passed uneventfully, which was fortunate as he travelled alone, and arrived shortly after dawn. The imposing towers of the infamous local prison dominated the horizon, giving a somewhat ominous impression to new visitors. From the hills overlooking the town, Devoe could see ravens roosting among the black spires that thrust into the morning sky. Nevertheless, his mind was set. He then descended into the streets of Sprohm.

Throngs of people were making their way to work, sparing precious little space for Devoe to manoeuvre. With some trouble, he made his way to a boarding house on the edge of the business district, where Clan Anarchy had set up a headquarters of sorts. Before long, Devoe found himself knocking on their door, anticipation welling up in his throat. He straightened his posture and attempted to make himself appear presentable, just as the door opened abruptly.

"Looking for a place in the clan, by any chance?" said the viera at the door, her expression friendly and her slender ears perky with optimism. Devoe found himself stumbling over the speech he had rehearsed to himself countless times. "I'm here, uh, to join… you know, um, the advert, the one you posted, I mean, well, this is Clan Anarchy, right? Um -"

"Hey, slow down. Take a moment to gather your thoughts, and try again. Don't worry, I don't put too much store in first impressions." the viera offered kindly. The hundred alarm bells that were going off in Devoe's mind were silenced with sheer relief as he recovered his wits. He then introduced himself much more succinctly and before long was welcomed into the clan. "I'm Tanya, the leader of Clan Anarchy. We're still quite new and short on members, but that will be remedied soon enough." the viera said with a smile, shaking hands with Devoe. She invited him inside to meet the rest of the clan.

The room had a slight trace of fresh paint, which was not altogether unpleasant. Furniture was sparsely distributed, revealing a taste for Spartan furnishings. The centrepiece of the room was the sturdy oaken desk that was covered with documents and clerical supplies. A banner hung on the wall behind the desk, proudly displaying a familiar symbol in crimson hues, which Devoe recalled as the clan's emblem. As he took in his surroundings, Tanya explained that due to space constraints, the entrance room served as an administrative office, while the adjoining rooms housed bunks and an armoury.

She then pointed at the door leading to the clan quarters, indicating that he should introduce himself to the rest of the clan. "Those bureaucrats at Bervenia have nothing better to do than arbitrarily requesting form upon form to be completed before they will recognize a clan officially in engagements," Tanya commented snidely, before putting on a delicate pair of pince-nez and immersing herself in work. Devoe had little choice but to muster up his courage before entering the next room.

His entrance raised some heads in his direction. The chill of apprehension crept up his neck as his fellow clan mates sized him up. Closest to him was a gruff-looking bangaa who was in the process of polishing a gleaming bassinet helm. After acknowledging his presence, a nearly inaudible grunt emanated from the bangaa's snout, the nature of which Devoe was unsure – aggressive or apathetic? Unnerved by this apparent lack of warmth, he quickly sidled on to the adjacent bunk.

Next to the bangaa was a lad of maybe sixteen sitting on his bunk, with a motley collection of wallets, purses and bags piled all around him. Sparing mere seconds for the new arrival, he mumbled a jovial "Cheerio, the name's Victor," before returning to a count of "thirty-four thousand eight hundred and twenty-two" while rifling through the contents of a brown envelope with a roguish grin on his face. Devoe's hand instinctively went to his coin pouch while he silently made note of this potential danger.

The remaining person was bent over an exquisitely crafted flamberge, sharpening it with an old whetstone, paying much care to the sword's maintenance. The weapon had a keen, undulating blade which glistened slightly in the light. It appeared to be of foreign manufacture, perhaps forged in the northern regions of Ivalice. Devoe, having an avid interest in field of weaponry, decided to ask, "Excuse me, sir, I'm curious to know where you obtained that sword."

Laughter erupted from the nearby bunk as Victor fell over, clutching his sides. Devoe started to regret his mistake as the weapon's owner slowly stood up, revealing an obviously feminine face that was currently contorted in an expression of rage. Backing away, face flushed with embarassment, Devoe was about to apologize profusely when he bumped into Tanya. She had just chosen this innopportune moment to see how he was fitting in with his new clan mates. Apparently, it hadn't gone very well.

"I see you've met Samantha. Hmm, she doesn't look very pleased. Was it something you said?" Tanya mocked playfully, nudging Devoe in the side. Samantha looked ready to injure something. Devoe began to worry that he might soon be on the wrong end of her sword. Victor piped up, "Well, he just proclaimed that Samantha here was of the male persuasion, so yeah, it was probably something he said."

Samantha glared coldly at Devoe before returning to her interrupted task. "She's always like that to newcomers, so don't get too worried. She's nice enough once you get to know her," Tanya offered, hoping to defuse the tension in the air.

"If by 'nice' you mean 'unbearably frigid' then I'd have to agree," Victor chipped in, just in time to receive a blow to the head. Victor teetered dangerously before falling off his bunk, worsening his injury as he hit the wooden floor. As he groaned in pain, Samantha walked over and retrieved her whetstone, which she had just used as a makeshift projectile. "Seeing how she behaves, I'm starting to think the new guy had the right idea after all," Victor mumbled, rubbing the bruise on his head.

"What was that? Was it a request for me to continue hitting you?" Samantha replied, waving the whetstone about threateningly. Victor ran to hide behind the imposing figure of the bangaa warrior, yelping in mock fear. "Save me from that horrid woman, Nathan. She may look human, but if I didn't know better I'd say she has the heart of a lamia." A smirk grew upon Nathan's reptilian features as he stepped aside to let the glib-mouthed teenager to suffer his fate.

"They're always at it, those two. It's as if Victor enjoys provoking her just for the sake of it," Tanya assured, as Samantha chased Victor out of the room while brandishing the whetstone. Devoe smiled nervously, hoping that his blunder would be soon forgotten. His first day in a clan and he'd nearly made a complete fool of himself. "Well, it can only go uphill from here," he thought to himself.


	2. First Taste of Battle

**Chapter 2 - First Taste of Battle**

The lilting song of sparrows graced the early morning air as the members of Clan Anarchy made their way through Salikawood. The decaying planks of the forest boardwalk creaked under the weight of their collective equipment and armour, threatening to give way altogether. Tanya lead the way, stopping now and then to consult a tattered map of the locale. Occasionally they came upon a walkway that had collapsed after unrelenting exposure to the elements, forcing them to take a detour.

It was on one of these detours when they descended from the boardwalk into a small clearing, where a dilapidated thatched hut stood. Upon their arrival, a few warriors emerged from the hut, unsheathing their weapons as they eyed the interlopers with suspicion. Rival clans were obviously unwelcome here. Devoe, who had been silently observing up till now, began to break into a cold sweat. Only recently had he been taught how to wield a sword, and knew next to nothing about live combat. Would he just get in the way of the battle, let alone aid his fellow clan mates? As various worries cascaded upon him, Tanya spoke, "To whom am I addressing this fine morning?"

A human garbed in leather armour and with a bow slung over his back stepped forward, replying tersely, "We are Clan Striker. Salikawood is our turf, and you have no business here. Pass through swiftly, and we will spare you from our blades."

Nathan let out a derisive snort. "You dare tell ussss what to do? Watch your tongue, lest I decide to ssslice it off." This incensed the opposing warriors, prompting them to brandish their weapons and cry out angrily. Tanya held out an arm, indicating Nathan to stand his ground, as he was obviously raring to have a go at their foes. She then announced, "I challenge you to an official engagement, contesting your right to this territory!"

Birds scattered from their nests at the sound of the viera's voice, launching into the bright azure sky. Devoe watched in wonder as a beam of light suddenly shone down upon the forest clearing, illuminating the ground around it. Soon after, a heavily armoured figure began to materialize from within the beam, its plate armour gleaming in the sunlight as it stepped out. With heavy boots sinking into the moist soil, the newcomer intoned authoritatively, "Engagement between Clan Striker and Clan Anarchy, in which the region known as the Salikawood shall be claimed by the victor. Today's laws forbid the use of curative spells and items."

Seeing the obvious confusion on Devoe's face, Samantha whispered, "That's a judge from Bervenia Palace. They oversee all clan engagements and prevent fatalities from occuring. They also pass down the daily laws, a set of ridiculous rules that we have to abide by, else we get thrown into gaol. I heard that it was the prince, Mewt, who thought that it would be an amusing twist to clan engagements."

"Personally, I think that Mewt is a nutcase, but that's just me." Victor cheerfully added as he pulled out a curved dagger hidden in his cloak. A wild roar erupted from Nathan as he threw himself upon the enemy, tearing a swathe through their ranks with a vicious spear. As they adjusted their formation to flank the raging bangaa, Samantha yelled to Devoe, "Come on! You're not just going to stand there, are you?"

By sheer force of will, Devoe banished all hesitation to the back of his mind, drawing his sword as he rushed to join the brutal mêlée. Samantha was already in the thick of it, ripping through armour and flesh alike with disciplined strokes of her flamberge. Her brunette tresses swayed in orchestration with her every movement, as she traded blows with a particularly unrelenting viera fencer. Samantha feinted to the left, fooling the unsuspecting fencer into a vulnerable stance, which she exploited to deal a punishing blow to her midsection. Even as her opponent fell, Samantha had already spun around to engage her next assailant.

Devoe, who had been watching from the sidelines, was brought out of his reverie by a sharp jolt of pain. The white-hot sensation shocked him with its intensity, forcing him to double over as he stifled a scream. An arrow had lodged itself in his left forearm, rendering it useless in combat. Devoe looked up to see a hunter perched upon a large boulder, who was reaching into his quiver for a second attack. Before either the hunter or the hunted had a chance to react, another arrow sailed through the air, impaling the hunter through his torso and sending him flailing headlong off his vantage point.

In both awe and gratitude, Devoe turned to catch a glimpse of his rescuer. Standing atop a sturdy tree branch, Tanya waved to him, while shouting something that was incomprehensible from such a distance. Straining to hear her, Devoe caught a fragment of speech, "…behind you!"

Bringing his sword to bear, Devoe spun around, clashing violently with a diminutive, yet feisty moogle knight, who then unleashed a furious assault. He was forced to use his weapon to fend off a number of otherwise fatal strikes, which proved difficult with only one hand. While watching for an opening in the moogle's defence, Devoe struggled to keep up with his swift footwork, inadvertently giving ground to the enemy. Before he knew it, he was trapped against the wall of the hut, unable to retreat any further. The moogle let out a triumphant cry as he thrust its blade forward, hoping to skewer the unfortunate rookie.

With some skill and no insignificant portion of pure luck, Devoe managed to dodge the attack intended to finish him off. The moogle's eyes widened in astonishment as the blade buried itself deep into the wooden wall, all the way up to the hilt. In its vain attempt to dislodge his only means of defence, the moogle had little chance to avoid Devoe's prompt counterattack. In moments it was over - Devoe had struck down the petite knight, and almost felt guilty for him. His aching sword arm was a harsh reminder that the small heap that lay at his feet was not to be underestimated. His other arm provided an even more severe reminder - that he ought not be standing around as target practice.

While Devoe sought out another opponent, Victor was skulking among a copse of trees that bordered the clearing. He had picked out a particularly troublesome black mage who had been hurling spell after spell at Nathan, who was preoccupied in a skirmish with another bangaa. The unsuspecting mage was in the midst of an incantation when a dagger slipped into his back, courtesy of a smug-faced Victor who wasted no time in looting the fallen mage's belongings. Satisfied with his new acquisitions, he retrieved his dagger before slipping back unnoticed into the foliage.

Samantha, Devoe and Nathan had formed a circle around the last remaining member of Clan Striker, weapons held at the ready. Their last obstacle to victory existed in the form of a stoic bangaa defender, whose tenacity was no less for the lack of allies. "If I'm going down, why don't I take down sssome of you with me, hm?" he hissed vehemently, undaunted in the face of certain doom. A stalemate was reached, neither side willing to make the first move as they eyed each other furtively.

With the sun almost at its apex, the sweltering heat was suddenly starkly apparent. Devoe felt sweat droplets tickling the base of his neck as they trickled downwards. Unable to stand the tension much longer, he let out a somewhat feeble cry as he charged forward. In one fluid motion, the bangaa swung round to intercept him, and as a mailed gauntlet shot out, Devoe's world went black.


End file.
